Two Worlds Collide Two Evils Meet
by flyinginthestars
Summary: Harry Potter is magically taken to the land of Middle Earth to discover that the two evils, Voldemort and Sauron, have joined forces. Harry must unite with the people of Middle Earth to defeat the joined evil, and discover the truth about his own destiny.
1. Chapter1

**Chapter 1 **

Harry Potter sat on his bed and stared around bleakly. He was bored. There was nothing to do. He had just finished writing his letter to The Order of the Phoenix, letting them know that everything was fine. But deep in his heart, he knew that it wasn't.

Harry had been extremely hopeful that this summer, things would be different. But they had been all too similar to last year.   
True, things with the Dursleys had improved marginally. They had allowed him a free run of the house, to let Hedwig out of her cage, and even gone so far as to allow him to keep his school equipment with him at all times, though he suspected this was probably due to the fact that he had refrained from telling them that he was allowed to perform magic outside of school.   
But this was not, compared to the major things happening outside of this small Muggle village, what Harry wanted. He did not want to be allowed things in the Muggle world - what use were they at the present time? What he truly wanted he couldn't have.   
He wanted information.

They had, however, managed to communicate to him one important piece of information that the Daily Prophet had not reported - the Ministry of Magic was finally co-operating and working alongside the Order of the Phoenix.   
_We see members fairly often...can't really tell you what we've overheard...we'll see you on the last week of the holidays for definite, though, Dumbledore's confirmed it..._   
Harry had considered feeling rather put out that the headmaster of Hogwarts had continued to leave him to be the last to know of the plans, but last year's experience had taught him not to attempt to override them. The loss of Sirius had taught him that...   
Harry swallowed. His godfather's death had haunted him so horribly of late; in his dreams, his thoughts, even in his waking visions he would picture the look of shock on his godfather's face as he fell through the archway...

Harry threw himself back down on his bed. He felt as though he had barely anything to look forward to. His birthday had come and gone, yet being sixteen wasn't really that different to being fifteen. He had barely used magic - there didn't seem much point - and to cap it all, Ron and Hermione had written to tell him that they weren't allowed to send packages from where they were. Harry was fairly certain that where they were was Grimmauld Place and although he tried to be understanding, it angered him.

Harry flopped down on his bed and lay still. On more than one occasion, he had been tempted not to write to Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place, to make them think he was being mistreated and to see them all again. But on each of those occasions he had reminded himself how selfish that was. They were busy with the Order and working with the Ministry; he, Harry, had to help them by staying put.   
He sighed. Now he really understood how Sirius had felt...right at that moment, Harry would have raced to another's aid just like Sirius had...   
Harry swallowed, fighting back the urge to put his head in his hands and sob.

Harry closed his eyes. A part of him just wanted to sleep and never wake up. There was hardly any point in living, not in a world where Sirius was dead and he was stuck in Privet Drive like this. Everything seemed completely pointless...   
Suddenly there was a tapping at Harry's window. He didn't react for a moment. Then he sat up, rubbing his eyes, to receive a slight shock.   
Hermes was tapping on his bedroom window.

"Hermes?" Harry asked aloud, astonished to see the owl. He stood still for a minute, dumbfounded, staring at the owl until Hermes gave an indignant hoot at not being let in. With a worried thought that Uncles Vernon may have heard, Harry opened the window and let the owl fly in.   
"Wait while I read this, will you?" he said to Hermes, untying the scroll from his leg. "Hedwig's gone to London."   
Hermes gave a low hoot to show he understood. He flew over to Hedwig's cage to drink some of her water, as Harry unrolled Percy's letter. 

Harry held the letter in his hands for a moment without looking at it. He was actually quite nervous; last time he had read a letter from Percy, it was to tell Ron that he, Harry, was a mad, possibly violent delinquent who Ron should "sever ties" with immediately. He took a deep break and glanced at the letter.   
He began to read...

_Dear Harry   
  
As you've probably gathered from the owl delivering this letter, this is Percy. I'm written to you to offer my apologies for my previous allegations._   
  
Harry's heart soared. Percy finally believed him...this surely must mean that at last people at the Ministry of Magic were convinced...   
  
_I want, first and foremost, for you to understand why we at the Ministry came to the reach the conclusion to disbelieve you. You must surely understand that, to start with, none of us had any proof other than your word that He Who Must Not Be Named was among us once more. Since so many believed him dead prior to your statements, we found it difficult to come to terms with what you were saying. It made little sense to many, and I hope you can understand that.   
We also, though it shames me to admit it, did not want to believe that the Dark Lord had returned. We were foolish, and we realise that now. As a partial repayment to your services to the Wizarding World, and as a full apology from me, I would like to tell you what we are doing to locate and stop the Dark Lo_   
  
The letter stopped. Harry stared in shock as he realised that the next part of it had been ripped off. Someone had read the other part of the letter!

Harry realised immediately he had to let someone know. He grabbed a piece of parchment from the pile on his desk and began to write. However, halfway through the first sentence, he stopped.   
If owl communication was being watched...then how could he manage to send anyone a letter to let them know what had happened? Quite simply, he couldn't! But how could he let someone know? He couldn't wait three days for someone from the Order of Phoenix to turn up!   
Suddenly, a thought struck Harry...

Harry stared at Hermes. If he kept Hermes here at Privet Drive, then maybe Percy would realise something was wrong, and raise the alarm!   
Suddenly a thought struck Harry. If the Ministry was working peacefully with the Order and Dumbledore, if all of the Death Eaters had been put in Azkaban, then who _could_ have taken that letter and read it? He was getting the _Daily Prophet_ every day, and although it didn't report any work against Voldemort in depth, it surely would have reported another breakout?

Harry threw himself down on his bed and thought as hard as he possibly could. He couldn't see who else would want to take that letter. Now could he see how they could have taken the letter. But quite obviously, they had...   
Harry didn't know what to do. He could not write for advice, he had no friends beside him. He could only think of keeping Hermes, to raise some sort of alarm.   
He stood up and walked over to Hermes' cage.   
"You're going to have to stay here, Hermes," he said.   
The owl looked at him with a indignant expression. Harry was reminded very much of Percy's face as he looked at the owl.   
"I - I'm sorry," he apologised nervously. "But it's the only way I can think of raising an alarm to let everyone know that something's happening..."

Harry shut Hermes in Hedwig's cage. Hermes glared at him reproachfully, his eyes following Harry's every movement.   
Harry tried to ignore it. He walked over to his door, shut it, and then shut the window. He glanced at his clock and was amazed to see the time. It was nearly one o'clock in the morning!   
"Where did all the time go?" Harry muttered to himself. Switching off the light, he felt himself become drowsy and he lay down on his bed. Closing his eyes, he began to drift off to sleep...

Harry stirred in his bed. He felt...   
A presence moved over him...he felt it. Something stirred; something long forgotten; something inhabiting ancient lands...   
Something...   
He felt himself being pulled down. He could not move; he was being swallowed, enveloped in blackness, pulled through time itself. He did not attempt to struggle; he knew somewhere in his subconscious, it would be useless.   
Suddenly, something stirred in his mind. A need to listen. There...there was a voice echoing through the darkness...a knowledgeable, truthful voice that filled Harry's mind in a way that his words were left there even after his departure.   
His words...   
_When you see the sun lower opposite you, look to the sky. Behold, you will find answers..._


	2. Chapter2

Chapter 2 

Harry awoke with a start. He shook his head, as though trying to clear it; to detach it from the experience he had just had. Despite his efforts, he felt those meaningful words echoing through his mind.   
_When you see the sun lower opposite you, look to the sky. Behold, you will find answers..._   
He would find answers? Well, that would be something, over hearing virtually nothing informative over the whole of the summer.   
But what day; _when_ would he see the sun lower opposite him? Any day? That couldn't be right; they wouldn't know when to...to talk to him...   
Harry lay in his bed, deep in thought, until the first light of the morning sun shone through his window, and the birds celebrating the coming of the day could be clearly heard outside.   
"Right," Harry muttered to himself. "All right then. I'll make sure today is the day. I'll watch the sun set this evening, and I'll look to the sky. And someone _will_ give me some answers!"

Harry got up that morning feeling strangely triumphant. At last, he might have some answers! He was extremely curious though, but he was trying to put all his thoughts on hold. Any doubts might make him rethink his decision to watch the sun set and look to the sky.   
He went down to the kitchen to pour himself some orange juice, to find that he was the only one up. He took his juice into the garden, finding himself looking up at the sun.   
_Tonight, I'll watch you set_, he thought firmly to himself. _Tonight I am going to get some answers_!

Harry found himself in the garden most of the day. Normally, he would have retreated to his room by now, but some strange part of him felt it was necessary to watch the sun, just in case it suddenly set while he wasn't watching.   
Uncle Vernon seemed extremely suspicious. He kept shooting Harry nasty looks from out of the windows and Harry knew he was wondering what he, Harry, might be up to.   
Harry sighed. It was one thing after another.

He paced around the garden, not noticing the well-kept grass beneath his feet. As well as continuously looking up at the sun, he kept checking his wand in his jeans pocket, as though reassuring himself it was still there and hadn't momentarily disappeared. He didn't know what to expect; whether it was going to be good or bad. All that he knew was that he had to do something. He couldn't be cooped up for another moment...he needed to know what was happening in the world...and to somehow find out who had taken the other part of his letter.   
He turned around suddenly to see Aunt Petunia walking towards him. She had been acting extremely oddly all summer, avoiding him like the plague, not catching his eye, keeping her distance.   
But she was looking at him now. And there was a strange look in her eyes...

Harry watched her walk towards him without moving or speaking. Finally she reached his side.   
"Harry," she whispered suddenly, taking him by surprise. "Tonight is the night."   
"W-what?" he asked her in a quiet but urgent voice.   
"Tonight," she repeated.   
Harry understood exactly what she meant, but what he didn't understand at all was...   
"How do you know this?"   
"There's no time, Harry," she replied without taking her eyes off his. "I will make sure you are alone in this house for the time. Tonight is your only chance, Harry."   
Harry knew he simply had to accept it. He nodded.   
"Thank you."   
"I have not finished," she replied straightforwardly. "Yet this last piece of information is from another."   
"What...what is it?" Harry asked quietly, all sure he knew who it would be from...   
"He says..._Do what you think is right_..."   
And with that Aunt Petunia strode away. Harry watched her go. He did not move, he did not call her back, seek to know more. Just as she did not turn around.

It was Uncle Vernon who came to tell Harry that they were going out without him. Harry simply nodded; he could not speak. The support of his aunt was the strangest thing in the world...   
He watched Uncle Vernon head back into the house and suddenly saw his Aunt watching him from the kitchen window. Their eyes locked and stayed for several moments, until Harry saw Uncle Vernon reach her. They spoke briefly, and Uncle Vernon headed into the hall, out of sight to Harry.   
Aunt Petunia turned back to Harry. She raised her hand. What was it? A salute? A farewell? A gesture of friendship? Harry raised his own hand.   
Aunt Petunia smiled sadly, and turned to walk out of his life.   
Harry swallowed. Perhaps it was a mixture of all three.

He heard their car drive away and sat on the grass for a while, deep in thought. He could hardly believe what his aunt had done for him...   
The sun was getting lower. Harry watched it with anticipation. Now was the time to start gathering up everything he needed.   
He made his way into the house, stopping at the kitchen for a glass of orange juice. Suddenly his eyes fell on a note by the toaster.   
A note...and a package...

Harry set the glass and the carton down next to the fridge. He walked over, uncertain of what to expect.   
He took the large piece of paper between his fingers, not looking at it. Finally, he forced himself to read the letters upon the page...   
_Dear Harry   
This is, from me, a final farewell. I do not, from where our paths are leading us, think we will see each other again. Although I have kept it hidden from you for so many years, this does sadden me.   
There are...things, I have to tell you, Harry, things I do not find easy to say. I know you may have believed you discovered the entire truth last year, but you did not. Who I am has been kept from you.   
I am a witch. I have, however, renounced the ways of that world and returned to this world. My reasons for doing this I will keep to myself. If we ever do meet again, I will tell you.   
Few know this. Vernon himself does not. Of course, my parents knew, and my sister knew, but they are dead in this world as you know. There are only three living souls on this earth who do know.   
One, now, is you. The second is Albus Dumbledore. The third, is Lord Voldemort...   
Lord Voldemort fears me. I cannot tell you why, just as I cannot tell you why I returned to this world. I keep to my word, however...if we meet again, I will tell you.   
I now ask you to open the package. I shall not tell you what it contains; you will know when you see it.   
Harry, please believe me when I tell you I never wanted things to end, or even to begin, like this. You are unique, you are special, you are wonderful even, and I want to tell you that I love you. I always have done. I just could not tell you before now.   
Sometimes it hurt me to look at you. The eyes looking back at me were Lily's...I could not bear to be reminded of it all. It was so much easier to push you away; keep you in the dark.   
I am sorry, Harry. So sorry. I hope that one day you can understand, and forgive me. I leave you on this note; repeat my given message.   
Do what you think is right.   
Petunia_

Harry stood still for a moment, staring at the letter as the words jumped out at him.   
_A final farewell...I love you...I'm sorry...Lord Voldemort fears you...I am a witch..._   
How, how could this be? The aunt that he'd hated, rejected, despised for all these years truly felt that way about him. He continued staring at the letter.   
She loved him...   
An involuntary tear formed in Harry's eye. He let it fall, roll down his cheek as he gazed, unblinking, at the letter that, in truth, completely changed his entire world...   
The secrets; the lies. They had to end. Petunia...she had realised that. She had known it was necessary to tell him. The borders had to be broken.   
Harry's gaze fell upon the parcel.


	3. Chapter3

Chapter 3 

Harry stared at the parcel for a moment. Then he reached out his hands, lifting it from the kitchen surface. It seemed shapeless; there was no way of telling what it was. We weighed it in his hands; it seemed neither heavy nor light...it was not truly anything in particular.   
Harry's feelings of curiosity overcame him, and he made to open the package and see what was inside it. Yet as his fingers closed around the old, brown paper covering it, he found he could not rip it off...

Harry frowned in confusion. He tried to tear off the paper again...yet nothing happened.   
"What's going on?" he said aloud to himself.   
He tried for a third time, and put the package back on the kitchen unit in frustration. It was the most curious sensation Harry had ever experienced - wanting to do something, but not being able to make your body obey your brain...   
Suddenly it hit Harry. A spell! That was why he couldn't open it. But...that made absolutely no sense at all. If Petunia had given him the gift, why would she make him unable to open it?   
Harry glanced out of the window and panicked. The sun was getting lower.   
He grabbed the parcel and the letter and ran upstairs to his room.   
Throwing the two items onto his bed, he glanced around the room. He didn't have long...he just had to gather up the essential things he might need.   
He took his Firebolt, his wand, his wizard robes and a cloak; one normal warm cloak and the other his invisibility cloak. Stuffing them into bag, he saw again the things he had deposited onto his bed. He grabbed them, and threw them into the bag as well.   
He paused for a moment, looking around. Was there anything else he might need? His spellbooks, his cauldron?   
_No_, Harry thought firmly. _Only take what you need. I can live without those._   
He looked around his room one final time, and his eyes fell on Hedwig and Hermes asleep in Hedwig's cage. He wondered for a moment what to do, but remembered suddenly that the Dursleys were coming home, and that even if they did not look after them, someone from the Order was bound to come after they realised he was no longer answering his letters.  
"Goodbye," he said aloud.   
And with that he turned, ran down the stairs, through the kitchen, and out back into the garden.

Harry took his bag into the garden, staring at the sun, trembling. He knew that, at last, something was about to happen.   
The bottom of sun was about to dip out of sight. Harry knew he had to watch the sunset from beginning to end...and it was about to begin now...   
He stared in anticipation, wanting nothing more than to know what was coming, and to experience what it was.   
The bottom of the sun lowered out of sight. Harry stood watching it, knowing one single thing in his head.   
It had begun.

Harry felt himself shaking; he couldn't keep his hand steady, but he held firmly onto the bag and continued to watch the sun. It continued to lower, slowly but steadily.   
Harry heard the voice echo inside his head once more as he stared at the sun. The voice that he had entrusted so much too...   
_When you see the sun lower opposite you, look to the sky. Behold, you will find answers... _  
But what did it mean?   
That was what he had to find out.   
The sun was nearing being halfway out of sight now. Harry continued to stare at it, shaking. He just needed to know...

It was funny, Harry thought, how he'd never really noticed the sun before. Never watched it rise or fall.   
It was...it was beautiful.   
Partially because it was going to reveal to him some answers, but also...its orange, shimmering glow...the way its fading light illuminated the clouds with so many astonishing colours...and the fact that it was going to give him some answers...   
The sun was nearly gone. Harry stood there, apprehensive, watching the tip of it disappear from sight.   
Suddenly, it was gone.   
Harry looked to the sky as he had been directed. He could make out several stars, faintly. He'd never been a brilliant astronomy student; stargazing had never really appealed to him...but he saw just then, how beautiful some of the faint glows truly were.   
He carried on staring at them. They seemed to glow brighter...the sky seemed to darken...the atmosphere around him changed...   
Harry lowered his head. He stared.   
He has no longer in the garden of Number Four, Privet Drive. He was certainly still outside, that much he could make out, but the night that had fallen around his so suddenly enveloped all that was around him. He could see faint outlines...that was all...   
Harry suddenly noticed a faint glow behind him. He began to turn, and, as he did so, a voice spoke.   
"Good evening..."   
Harry faced the voice, but who it had come from he could not tell. For the glow had suddenly brightened so much that he could not tell who it hid...


	4. Chapter4

Chapter 4 

Harry's heart seemed to stop beating as he recovered from the complete suddenness, as he stared into that amazing glow. Yet, even though he was shocked...he could feel the warmth, the goodness, the magic of the glow...and he did not feel fear.   
"Hello," he said, and suddenly he felt that unmistakable feeling that he was being watched by others he could not see...for although the glow hid the one behind it, it did not illuminate their surroundings.   
Harry stared in awe until the strong, clear, male voice echoed through his mind once more.   
"We are glad that you have come, Harry Potter. We need you now more than you can possibly know."   
"Why? Please...what's going on?" Harry asked, before he could stop himself.   
"All in good time, all in good time..."   
"Who are you?" said Harry. "Lift the light! Please, show yourself to me."   
The light began to shift and its holder was revealed. Harry stared up at the incredible man in front of him, taking in every detail...   
He was in the form of an old man, yet a man who was grown wiser to the world of late, and was somehow older and younger for it at once. His long, folding, elegant robes were of a beautiful, thick, rich material; they fell perfectly, just covering his feet. They were stunning white. His hair hung just past his shoulders; that too was startling white.   
But what caught Harry's eye the most was what he was holding. In his right hand he held a long thin object, rather like a very beautiful walking stick. It too was chalk white and looked sturdy yet delicate all at once. The top of it was a wonderfully crafted shape, intricate and simple all at the same time.   
"Welcome to Middle Earth, Harry Potter," said the incredible man. "My name is Gandalf the White."

Harry stood still for a moment, staring.   
"Hello," he said unsurely, after a moment. "Please, Gandalf...Gandalf the White...what am I doing here?"   
"I understand your need for explanations, but I will speak to you at first light, Harry Potter."   
Suddenly he turned and Harry noticed a man standing behind him. He was taller than Gandalf, yet possessed a far more warrior-like appearance. He too had long hair nearly to his shoulders, but it was dark, as were his clothes. Harry could see a huge sword gleaming at his waist.   
"Aragorn," said Gandalf.   
The man inclined his head.   
"Signal the torches to be lit all over Helm's Deep. Eowyn must escort Harry Potter to where he is to sleep. I think it is best for them to spend the night in each other's company."   
"As you wish, Gandalf. I will find her."   
He shouted out something in a language Harry could not understand. However, suddenly he called for...   
"Eowyn? Eowyn, send for Eowyn!"   
A beautiful, tall, slender young woman emerged into the light from the long thin pole Gandalf the White held. Her hair was a shining river of gold, all the way down to her waist. He clothes were or a beautiful flowing silver material, flared at the bottom and at the sleeves. She spoke.   
"I am here, Lord Aragorn. Why do you call?"   
"He has arrived."   
"The boy? He is here?"   
Her eyes darted to Harry, who stared at her apprehensively.   
"Yes." Aragorn nodded. He pulled Eowyn closer to him, and they had a few minutes of whispered conversation. Finally, Eowyn turned her beautiful face to his.   
"Come," she said, with a genuine smile that held both friendliness and curiousity. She beckoned him closer with her pure white hands. Harry moved towards her.   
Suddenly, all together a burst of glimmering light illuminated everything in a vague fire glow. Harry realised that hundreds if not thousands of torches had been lit on the huge fortress behind them. Harry stared at it in amazement.

The wonderful, flickering flame torches revealed the enormous fort behind them. It looked slightly broken; worn, but that did not take away its magnificence. The first thing Harry noticed was the huge, wide, grand pathway that lead to a set of wooden double doors. He could see that although no one had come outside of the enormous building, many people, young and old, had come on the upper floors of the fortress to peer over its walls and see the boy that had been brought here from another world.   
Harry, standing next to the beautiful Eowyn, turned to look at Gandalf, and saw others standing with him. Aragorn he had already seen, but more had appeared. There was a tall, graceful man with long hair, blonde, partially tied back. He too had a warrior-like appearance; Harry could see a bow and a stack of arrows were slung on a strap over his shoulder, and there was at least one dagger visible at his waist. There was one other; an extremely short man, also with long hair and beard, rich red in colour. The only weapon visible was his enormous axe.   
Eowyn smiled at Harry, sensing his obvious confusion and curiousity.   
"Come, Harry Potter," she said. "Follow me."   
She started walking away from the others, up the wide path, heading for the door. Harry hurried after her.   
"Why...?" he began, but she shook her head.   
"Gandalf will explain more tomorrow. For now, all I can ask is that you try and hold your great many questions, and come with me."

Harry nodded, and concentrated on following her toward the great wooden doors. He stared all around the place as he did so in awe.   
He could not hold back one question.   
"What is this place?"   
Eowyn glanced at him.   
"It is called Helm's Deep. My people, my father's people, the people of Rohan, were forced to flee here because of the threat of Isenguard."   
Harry had heard of neither Rohan nor Isenguard, but knew better than to ask more. He contented himself with knowing that Gandalf would tell him everything tomorrow.   
They reached the huge wooden doors. Eowyn pushed them both open to reveal a huge entrance, with great halls leading off into different directions.   
"Where are you taking me, Eowyn?"   
She smiled at him, placing one beautiful light hand on his shoulder, her own bright blue eyes staring into his green ones.   
"You will soon know."

Eowyn started off towards a set of stone steps so suddenly that Harry was caught unawares and had to hurry after her. Eowyn's step was quick yet light yet, her stride was long, and Harry marvelled at her pace yet her ability to move with ease. It was not gracefulness...it was something more than that; the wonderful stature of someone who has had to learn poise and balance for deeper reasons...   
Harry soon gave up trying to commit the path they were taking to memory. Eowyn obviously knew Helm's Deep well, and he simply had to trust that, with time, he may come to know it well also.   
Eventually Eowyn stopped. She gestured to a small, plain wooden door on their right. She reached out and pulled the rusty iron ring on the door and it swung open.   
Harry stared into the room it revealed...


	5. Chapter5

**Chapter 5**

It very much had the appearance of a room built and furnished by someone who did not know what the room's purpose would be, and therefore made it suit many different purposes.   
The floor was bare, as were the walls and ceiling. At the end of the room were two beds, each low and fairly small. Its sheets looked as though they had not been slept in for a long time. Pushed against the wall there was a dusty table and a broken chair beside it. These, to Harry, seemed normal enough. On the other side of the room, however, there was a wooden rack and Harry could see the faint gleaming of metal, and looking closer, he could see weapons stacked in this rack; swords, daggers and shields. The whole appearance of Helm's Deep took Harry back to a history lesson in Muggle primary school, where they had studied the Vikings and the Middle Ages.   
He looked to Eowyn for some explanation, but none came. She simply walked into the room, and gestured with her hands for him to follow her in, which he did, dragging his bag of few possessions that he had taken with him. He lay the bag on the floor and turned again to look at Eowyn. She closed the door behind them and drew the rusty bolt over the door. At last she turned to face him.   
"What is this place, Eowyn?"   
She looked around the room and Harry could see the recognition in her eyes as she looked around it. She spoke in a voice full of emotion.   
"I have not ventured inside this room since I was a small child. Helm's Deep was built many ages ago, and I do not know whom by. There are many rooms like this, which have fallen into disrepair. We only sought them out again yesterday, for the weapons we needed."   
"Why did you need the weapons?" asked Harry apprehensively.   
"Gandalf will tell you at first light. Take some rest, Harry Potter." She pointed at the beds in the corner of the room.

Harry did as she asked. He walked over to one of the small beds and sat down on it. It sagged a little, obviously old and unused.   
He lay down, pulling one of the old musty sheets over him. He looked at Eowyn, who was facing away from him, lost in thought.   
"Eowyn?" he said.   
She turned around, smiling at him.   
"Go to sleep, Harry Potter. I am sorry, for I know that receiving no answers to your questions must trouble you greatly. But for now, I advise you to rest, and prepare your mind for tomorrow."   
"Why will I need to prepare my mind?" asked Harry curiously.   
"A great number of things are to be revealed to you. That is why Gandalf requests that you rest first."   
Harry was glad to know this small redemption. He nodded and smiled, lying down on the bed. He trusted the quicker he went to sleep, the quicker he would find answers.

Harry lay his head against the sagging, old mattress as there was no pillow, and tried to make sense of what was happening around him even though he knew that he did not have nearly enough answers. He thought back to the time when he was standing in the garden of Number Four, Privet Drive. It seemed such a long time ago now...   
He closed his eyes, his mind rested. He was fine for now. Gandalf would soon speak to him. Everything was all right...   
He soon drifted off to sleep.

_Clang_.   
A sharp sound made Harry awaken. He sat up suddenly, staring around him.   
A large candle stood, lit, upon the old table. It's flickering light illuminated the tall figure of Eowyn. She stood a little way from the two beds, a sharp sword gleaming in her hand, reflecting the candlelight.   
"Eowyn?" Harry said uncertainly. "What...what are you doing? Aren't you going to get some sleep?"   
Eowyn inclined her head towards him.   
"I apologise for waking you, Harry Potter."   
"I-I don't mind." He stared at the sword in her hand. He slid out of the bed.   
She watched him. "You should rest."   
"So should you," he replied steadily. "What are you doing?"   
Her arm shot out in front of her, the sword pointing straight. She turned so suddenly, spinning the sword round, taking up the same position once more.   
"Practising," she said vaguely.   
Harry stared at her skill. "What for?"   
"I cannot tell you."   
Harry had had enough.   
"Please, Eowyn! Why won't you tell me anything?"   
Eowyn stood facing away from him for a moment, her hands together. Then she walked forward, placing the sword carefully on the rack. She turned suddenly, her beautiful long blonde hair swirling around her as she did so. She walked towards him, gesturing for him to sit on the bed. He did so, as she sat on the other one. They faced each other.

For a moment Eowyn didn't speak. She stayed looking away from him, her eyes not meeting his. Harry could just make out her pale face, faintly illuminated by the flickering glow of the candle flame. At last she spoke in a voice full of emotion.   
"We are at war, Harry Potter," she said quietly.   
Harry stared at her, shocked.   
"War?"   
She nodded.   
"Just the other night there was a huge battle. The battle of Helm's Deep. It was thought that we would not give out the night, until others came…"   
She paused. Harry could see her reliving the experience in her mind.   
"There was a huge army. Many of our people were killed. It was when Gandalf found out who the army had been powered by, that he felt it necessary to send for you."   
Harry looked away for a moment. He did not want to think about why he might be needed here in this world.   
Suddenly something occurred to Harry.   
"But…why were you practising with the sword?" he asked curiously. "Surely it is the men who fight, rather than the women in Helm's Deep?"   
Eowyn paused for a moment. Suddenly she got up, walking away from the beds, facing away from Harry so he could not see her face.   
"I'm sorry, Eowyn," he said quickly, though he was unsure what had upset her. "Please-"   
"It is not your fault," she broke in, turning her head to the side. Harry could see a tear running down her cheek, reflecting the candlelight. "You were not to know."

Harry got up from the beds.   
"Please, Eowyn," he said, taking a few steps towards her. "Please tell me what is wrong."   
She closed her eyes for a moment, letting the tears glide out from under them. Eventually she turned back to him.   
"My uncle is King," he told him in a quiet, shaky voice. "He is a noble man, a valiant leader. But he will not let me fight. I was not allowed to fight on our journey from Rohan, nor was I allowed to fight in the battle of Helm's Deep. He does not want to see his only niece wounded. Yet-"   
She broke off suddenly, letting the tears flow unchecked. Harry walked up to her, reaching out his hand, wiping her tears away. She looked at him, surprised yet touched.   
"Last night," she continued in an emotional voice barely more than a whisper, "He was wounded in the battle. And I cannot help but think, that if I had only been there with him, I could have prevented it..."   
Silent tears streamed down Eowyn's face as she voiced her grief.   
"But Eowyn," Harry said, "What if you had fought in the battle, and been hurt?"   
She looked at him with surprised eyes.   
"I do not fear battle, Harry Potter, I do not fear being hurt!" she said in a strong voice. "I fear neither death nor pain."   
"What do you fear, Eowyn?"   
She smiled at him suddenly.   
"Only yesterday I was asked that same question, Harry Potter. I answered true then and I will answer true now."   
She paused.   
"I fear a cage."   
It seemed odd to Harry.   
"A cage? Why do you fear a cage?"   
"Not being able to express my feelings, unable to stand for what I believe in, not allowed to do what I feel is right!" Eowyn said ardently. "Trapped in a world where I am ruled by others. To stay behind bars until use and old age accept them...and all chance of valour has gone beyond recall or desire. I fear that cage, Harry Potter, yet...more and more, as time goes by, others are controlling what I do, all the time..."   
Eowyn closed her eyes.   
"That cage is becoming a reality," she whispered.   
She walked over to the beds, sat on one, laying her face in her hands. Harry stared at her, taking in her grief, her pain, her hurt. Suddenly he understood. He knew exactly how Eowyn felt, caged by others who did not seem to truly how she felt, even though they loved her. Claiming they were helping, telling him they were protecting him…wasn't that how Sirius had died…?   
Harry walked over to her, sitting down beside her. It suddenly all became too much. Everything hit him in waves. Tears formed in his eyes, and before he knew it they were streaming down his face.   
"Eowyn," he whispered. "I know what you mean. And I'm sorry. I'm so sorry..."   
She turned her tear-stained face to his, seeing his tears, realising his pain. She reached out her arms and together they embraced, holding each other, expressing their feelings, crying their tears. Together they wept, holding each other close, finally having someone else who understood. Between them, an enormous understanding was formed, a valuable friendship was created.   
And it was never to be broken...


	6. Chapter6

**Chapter 6**

Harry woke up very early that morning, just before first light, still clasped in Eowyn's arms. He looked at her beautiful, quiet face for a moment; study her every detail. She looked peaceful, away from all the troubles the world held for her. Her eyes were closed, her face relaxed.   
Harry leaned forward carefully, and kissed her forehead gently. His hand stroked the hair beside her face. For one moment Harry knew that Eowyn was rested, and it made him happy to see her so.   
Suddenly, the first light shone palely through the small circular window at the very top of the room. The light fell upon Harry and Eowyn, still in their embrace. He looked at Eowyn, seeing her come out of her sleep, opening her eyes to look at him. She smiled a true smile.   
"Good morning, Harry," she said, taking her arms off him.   
It was the first time she had used his first name, rather than his full name, which made Harry smile. He knew that a friendship had been struck between them, and it made him happier than he could say.   
"Good morning, Eowyn."   
"I must go and speak to the others," she said, standing up. "They will want to speak to you immediately. I advise that you change, while I search for them." Her eyes fell on Harry's bag.   
Harry nodded.   
Eowyn smiled at him. She made towards the door, drawing back the bolt, seeming about to open it and leave, when she spoke.   
"Harry, I...I want to thank you. You were a great comfort and friend to me last night."   
"It's me who should be thanking you, Eowyn. I'd be so lost in this world if you weren't here to help me. You've been a good friend to me too."   
She strode quickly back to him, and they shared one last hug, before Eowyn stood up once more.   
"Let us hope we will always be there for each other."   
"We will, Eowyn...I am sure of it."   
She seemed unable to speak for a moment, yet she did not have to. The expression on her face as she looked at him told Harry that she was touched.   
"I will return soon, Harry."   
She strode away, her long silvery dress billowing in her wake.

Harry got up off the bed unsteadily, and walked across the room to pick up his bag from the floor. He carried it back and emptied its contents onto the bed. Again he saw the package and the letter from his Aunt Petunia. He paused for a moment, looking at it, but somehow found himself able to continue.   
He found his wizard robes, but found that he did not want to change into them yet. He kept his wand in his jeans pocket. He looked around the bare room, his eyes falling upon the rack with the many weapons and defences upon it.   
He could not resist. He walked over to it, staring for a moment, and then pulled out the long sword that Eowyn had used last night. He held it with one hand, surprised at its weight. He held it out in front of him, the way he had seen Eowyn use it.   
Yet the sword was not...he could not make it work for him. He waved the piece of metal uselessly in the air, but it would not move well through the air as he would have liked. He could not control it properly. He quickly lost heart and placed it back on the rack.   
There was a sudden noise behind him, and Harry turned quickly to see the door open. Eowyn stepped quietly into the room.   
"Well?" he said. "Does Gandalf want to speak to me?"   
She nodded.   
"That he does, Harry."   
He walked over to her, and she placed a comforting hand on his back.   
"Do not be afraid," she advised. "Gandalf is an intelligent, fair, wise being. He will advise you well on what your purpose here is."   
He smiled, if a little apprehensively.   
"Thank you, Eowyn."   
They walked out of the room, shutting the door behind them.


	7. Chapter7

**Chapter 7**

As soon as Harry came out of the room, the first thing he noticed were the people. They all turned to stare at him, watching him with astonished, curious eyes. Harry felt awkward that he should be famous in two worlds.   
The people were wearing fairly simply clothes; plain colours of a rough material, yet there was something like triumph as they parted to let them pass.   
Eowyn walked with Harry, a comforting arm around him, always at his side, showing him the way. Harry was more glad of her presence than he could say; she gave him confidence, and he found that sometimes he could return people's stares with a smile.

There were less and less people as they walked - Harry noticed they were going upwards all the while.   
They came to a very long, winding staircase. Eowyn smiled at him.   
"Gandalf is waiting for you up here. This is quite a long staircase, for which I apologise in advance, Harry." She laughed.   
Harry paused for a moment, looking at her. He had never seen her laugh before. It was somehow beautiful; the one time Eowyn could forget her troubles in her waking moments.   
He smiled back at her.   
"I don't mind, Eowyn."   
"Then upwards we go," she replied with a broad smile.

They began to climb the stairs. Harry did not generally mind climbing staircases, but after a few minutes his legs were starting to ache. The steps became smaller as they got higher, and Harry did not want to look out of the small windows - which he noticed had no glass.   
He looked at Eowyn at his side. She showed no sign of tiredness; she simply stared straight ahead, climbing the stairs with ease. Harry marvelled at her strength, both physical and mental.   
She seemed to sense his need to rest.   
"Are you all right, Harry?" she said, stopping, turning to look at him.   
Harry paused, and nodded.   
"I-I'm fine. I'm just..." his voice trailed off and he looked down at the steps beneath his feet.   
Eowyn lifted one beautiful hand, her long, elegant sleeve flowing with it. Her fingers met his chin, lifting it up, making him look at her.   
"What?" she asked softly.   
His eyes filled with tears at her concern, but he blinked them away and smiled bravely.   
"Nervous, I suppose."   
She placed both of her hands on his shoulders.   
"All will work out in the end, Harry. Believe that and it will take you through the hard times."   
He nodded.   
"If you trust nothing else, trust that."   
He looked straight into her eyes.   
"The thing I will always trust is you, Eowyn."   
Their embrace was strong, deep, meaningful...and most of all, needed.

They broke apart, and Harry noticed that tears had formed in Eowyn's eyes. She was extremely touched at what he had said.   
Suddenly, a thought struck Harry.   
"Eowyn," he said, "Do you know _why_ I'm here?"   
She avoided his gaze for a moment, then looked at him.   
"I do not know why you are here, Harry," she said honestly. "I know a little, but I am not completely sure of your significance in our fight. I know hardly anything about who you are and what you mean in your world."   
Harry thought for a moment. What did he mean in his world that could possibly have any mention here?   
Eowyn interrupted his thoughts.   
"Come on, Harry. We are nearly there."

They made the rest of the journey in silence, side by side. Harry did not dare look at Eowyn; he was lost in his own thoughts once more, contemplating her words.   
He believed she was telling the truth when she said she did not know what he was here for, yet it did not comfort him at all...what could the reason possibly be...?   
The stairs were beginning to turn and Harry realised that there were only five of them left in front of him. There was an opening in front of him, where a small group of people stood watching him. He recognised them, though he was not sure where from.   
Behind them was a door. It was closed.

Harry stared at the three of them, and they stared back at him. He now knew where he recognised them from.   
There was the man called Aragorn, still with his warrior-like appearance, although he no longer had his huge sword visible.   
There was the tall man who possessed a seemingly ageless quality, with his long, deep blonde hair and pale skin. He too no longer held any weapons, as did the third recognisable figure, a man shorter than Harry with long ginger hair and beard.   
He had seen them when he had first arrived here last night; they had stood with Gandalf. Where was Gandalf?   
Harry glanced at Eowyn. She placed a light but comforting hand on his back, and guided him towards the three people. She beckoned to Aragorn and he stepped forward, avoiding Harry's eyes.   
"Your brought him; thank you, Eowyn," he said. "Gandalf is anxious to see him."   
He looked at the door behind him, before turning back to Harry, though never looking him in the eyes.   
"But first, I would like you to meet my companions, Harry Potter."   
Harry Potter. Formal, like Eowyn had once been, Harry thought. These people seemed so untrusting.   
Aragorn turned back to the others. Eowyn glanced at Harry.   
"Aragorn knows why you are here," she whispered, as he leaned in to talk to the man with blonde hair.   
"He does?"   
She nodded.   
"Gandalf has only told him and one other; my Uncle, King Theoden."   
Harry looked over at Aragorn and the blonde man. Was that why he wouldn't look him in the eye? What was his purpose here?

Aragorn turned back to Harry.   
"As you may already have heard from Gandalf or Eowyn, my name is Aragorn, son of Arathorn."   
Harry did not understand why Aragorn said his father's name, but remained quiet. His manner appeared friendly, but his eyes that never met Harry's were wary, cautious. Harry nodded and took Aragorn's outstretched hand. Aragorn did not shake his hand as such; he simply gripped it firmly.   
The blonde man stepped forward. Despite his appearance of a warrior, his step was light and he possessed a natural grace.   
"I am Legolas of the Woodland Realm," he said, in a rich, warm, friendly voice that Harry instantly took to, although he found the name odd. He had no idea what the man meant by the "Woodland Realm" either. He expected Legolas to take his hand as Aragorn had done, but he placed his hand on his heart and inclined his head in a respectful manner. Harry imitated him, although he was slightly confused.   
The third, very short man, took several steps forward.   
"I am Gimli, son of Gloin," he said in a very deep, rumbling voice that took Harry by surprise. The man's size did not match his voice. Gimli felt that was all that he needed to say, and Harry felt the awkwardness of the moment, although he was not quite sure everyone else did.   
He glanced at Eowyn instinctively.

Eowyn smiled at him, sensing his confusion and unease.   
"Gandalf is waiting for you inside, Harry," she said, smiling and gesturing at the door.   
The three men parted to let Harry walk through. He took his first step and looked back at Eowyn.   
"Don't be afraid, Harry. Gandalf needs to explain to you. Please," she said, "Go to talk to him."   
Her hand rested on his shoulder, and he was comforted by it, assured.   
"Thank you for everything, Eowyn," he said. "Thank you so much."   
She smiled and nodded, slight tears forming in her eyes. Her hand lifted off his shoulder and found his.   
"Remember," she whispered. "While Gandalf is explaining to you, Aragorn shall be explaining to all of us. I am nervous too."   
He stared at her for a moment.   
"Perhaps we shall look at each other differently when I return."   
She shook her head.   
"No, Harry. No matter what is said, whether good or bad, you did not ask for any of it. You are, and always will be, a true friend to me."   
Their hands stayed clasped together for a moment more, until they both found themselves able to draw away.


	8. Chapter8

**Chapter 8**  
Harry turned, walking towards the door. He reached for the bolt on the outside, drew it back, and stepped into the room.

Harry shut the door behind him, leaving Eowyn and the others behind.   
He could not yet bring himself to look up at the man before him. He could just make out that this man was sitting down at some sort of desk. He was not sure what to do. His mouth was completely dry; his palms sweaty. He simply stood there, silent and motionless, hands by his side.   
Suddenly, the man spoke.   
"Hello, Harry."   
Harry's eyes widened in surprise. He looked up. He stared; he couldn't tear his eyes away. For he knew the man in the chair. And from the familiar twinkle in the man's calm blue eyes, he knew perfectly well who he, Harry was too.   
Harry managed to speak. He spoke the only thing he could think of. The name of the man before him, sitting so calmly as he somehow always managed to do.   
"Professor Dumbledore?"

Harry stared for a moment as the words left his mouth and echoed dimly through the room. He stared at Professor Dumbledore...   
But..._was_ it him? Harry continued to stare. It...no, it wasn't, but...   
Harry couldn't tell. He didn't know what to say. All that he knew was that somehow the Gandalf that he had seen the night he had arrived here, and the Professor Dumbledore that he had come to know so well, seemed to have melded into one. Both of them were sitting there, as one form, and Harry could think of no better way to say it. Both were present; he could not say how or why. But that much he was sure was true.   
Both were before him.

Harry had quite forgotten that the strange form of what somehow appeared to be Professor Dumbledore _and_ Gandalf the White had not yet spoken. As he did now, Harry gave a start.   
"Ah," he said, his eyes glinting. "You can see me, Harry."   
Harry stared in shock.   
"W-what?"   
He, that strange man that Harry could not yet understand, stood up slowly, his white clothes flowing.   
"You can see me," he replied simply.   
"I-I don't understand..."   
He gestured at the chair on the other side of the wooden desk.   
"Please," he said. "Sit down."

Harry stumbled over to a chair and sat down. He didn't understand at all. How..._how_ could this be? His desire for information was suddenly at is strongest. At that moment, Harry truly needed to know everything.   
He was glad that the man, whoever he was, had also sat down. It seemed far more friendly and human when he did.   
"Harry," he said. "Well...tell me, what do you want to know?"   
Harry looked up, his eyes blazing suddenly.   
"What do I want to know?" he said furiously. "_What do I want to know_? Everything! I want to know what's been happening all summer, what this place is, _why_ I'm here and you...who are you?"   
He smiled at Harry.   
"Who am I?" he said slowly. "Well, Harry, that will take a lot of explaining indeed...let me see...where shall I begin...?"

The man paused, thinking. Harry held back his feelings; he just wanted to know. Suddenly, the man opened his mouth, apparently convinced he had found a way to begin his story.   
"Do you know where we are, Harry?"   
Harry bit his tongue to stop himself shouting. He wanted _answers_, not more questions. He counted to ten in his head, and managed to answer.   
"Eowyn told me...Helm's Deep...?"   
The man nodded and smiled.   
"But do you know where Helm's Deep is?"   
Harry shook his head. The man leaned forward, placing his hands on the table. He took a deep breath, and began.   
"This is the land of Middle Earth, Harry. This can not be declared a wizarding world, or a world of men, or any such thing you may have previously known."   
"You mean..." said Harry slowly, taking this new information in. "We're in a different _world_?"   
The man nodded.   
"So how did you come to be here...Professor?" Harry said uncertainly.   
The man sighed.   
"The only way for a person to be able to be present in another world to that which they were originally born in, is if that person has died."   
Harry stared at him in shock.   
"You've - you've _died_? But they need you - back at home! They need you to help them fight Voldemort!"

Harry stared at him, yet the man would not look back. Suddenly a horrible thought occurred to Harry.   
"But...does that mean I'm dead too?" he asked, dreading the answer.   
The man looked back.   
"You were dead, at one point, Harry," he said slowly. "When Voldemort attempted to kill you, both of you died, for an instant."   
Harry tried to process the information.   
"I - I was _dead_?"   
"Yes," said the man solemnly. "But both of you managed to hold on to this world...so strong was both of your wills to survive."   
Harry couldn't look at him. Suddenly, he was furious. Why was he never told these things...until it was too late? Why? What had he done to deserve being constantly kept in the dark?   
Suddenly a thought struck Harry.   
"But what about you? Tell me you're still present in the other world?"   
The man looked at Harry.   
"I am no longer needed there, Harry."   
Harry stared at him, trying to work it all out. They were both here...   
Then he realised. The knowledge struck him down like the fiercest spell. Harry put both hands on the table to steady himself and looked at the man.   
"Voldemort," he said hoarsely. "Voldemort is here too?"   
The man nodded.


	9. Chapter9

**Chapter 9**

Harry dropped his head into his hands.   
"That's it? That's why I'm here? To help fight Voldemort?"   
The man nodded.   
Suddenly Harry looked up again, anger coursing through his veins.   
"Did you ever think to ask me about this?" he shouted, unable to stop himself. "You think you can just drag me here like I won't mind?"   
"Harry, I am truly sorry," replied the form of Gandalf the White and Professor Dumbledore. "But actually, I brought you here to ask you. Will you fight with us against Voldemort? Will you save all the worlds?"   
"How can you ask me something like that?" Harry said furiously. "And why didn't you tell me before? Is it always going to be like this? Are you never going to tell me anything before it's too late?"

Harry looked away. He didn't want to shout like he had done Professor Dumbledore's office, when anger and grief had threatened to take him whole.   
They sat there, silent for several moments. The silence was calming, and Harry tried to take deep breaths. Then he turned back to the man, who was sitting quietly.   
"Tell me who you are," Harry said, calmly but firmly. "Are you Professor Dumbledore, or are you Gandalf the White?"   
The man smiled sadly.   
"Harry," he said softly. "I am both."   
Harry looked at him incredulously.   
"Both? How _can_ you be both? It's not possible."   
"Not for anything you have encountered," he replied steadily. "Few know the truth."   
"What is the truth?" Harry asked. "I need to know."

The man looked at him.   
"Very well, Harry," he said, and Harry could almost make out two voices, speaking as one. "The truth."   
Harry waited, looking at him as he prepared to speak. At last, he did.   
"I, Albus Dumbledore, died long ago, far before you were born. Yet I too, managed to hold onto this world, Harry. But the reasons for this were different to yours and Voldemort's. I was brought back with a focus, a purpose, and resolve. I was brought the knowledge of the other worlds. I travelled to this one, and befriended Gandalf."   
"Gandalf the White?" Harry could not resist asking.   
"No, Harry, at that time, I was Gandalf the Grey." It was somehow a slightly different voice speaking now. "I could not travel worlds as I was an immortal, and could never die. However, there was a recent incident. I was defeated during a battle with a Balrog. Yet I too, was sent back, with a focus, a purpose and resolve just like Albus. Then, when the two evils of our worlds joined, we saw we had to do the same."   
"Joined?" asked Harry.   
"Yes," replied the man. "We are one in the same. Two individuals, from separate worlds, in one form, one body."

Harry stared at the man before him, the two men, and he did not know what to think. It was beyond anything he could have ever imagined before, yet...somehow he could believe it, take it in. He managed to meet the man's eye.   
"I am glad you can accept it, Harry," said the man.   
"I - I am too," said Harry, managing a nod and a smile. "But..."   
"What is it, Harry?" asked the man.   
"Well...this may sound daft...sir, but...what shall I call you?" asked Harry uncertainly.   
The man smiled.   
"Albus Dumbledore and Gandalf the Grey have joined to form a very powerful wizard," he replied. "My name, as I told you when you first arrived, is Gandalf the White."

Harry smiled as he heard it.   
"Gandalf the White," he murmured. It was the perfect name for the ageless, powerful wizard that sat before him. "Do they know the truth?" he asked Gandalf, gesturing to the door.   
"I am sure Aragorn will have finished telling them by now," smiled Gandalf the White. "But there is more I have to tell you, Harry."   
Harry turned back to him.   
"More?"   
"Yes, Harry. Do you not want to know who Voldemort has joined with?"   
Harry stared.   
"Y-yes, of course I do," he stammered, wondering how he could have forgotten this. "I want to know everything."   
"Everything," repeated Gandalf the White. "Be careful, Harry, for full knowledge can be dangerous."   
Harry did not know what to say to this. He simply stared back as steadily as he could at Gandalf, who considered him.

Gandalf the White suddenly spoke.   
"The force Voldemort has joined with is the Dark Lord of this world, Harry. His name is Sauron."   
Gandalf proceeded to tell Harry about the great battle that had taken place over 3500 years ago, when Sauron had possession of the one ring of power.   
"But what is this ring?" Harry asked. "What makes it so powerful?"   
"Because, Harry, it rules all the other rings of power. Three of these rings were given to the elves-"   
"What?!" exclaimed Harry, starting at Gandalf's words. "What do you mean, elves?"   
"We are in a different world, Harry, the land of Middle Earth," replied Gandalf the White. "Here, elves are very powerful, very wise beings. We have one particular elf in our midst whom you have already met."   
"Who?" said Harry sceptically, certain he had not met an elf.   
"Legolas, the Mirkwood Elf."   
"What?!" repeated Harry loudly. "That man-"   
"He is not a man, Harry," smiled Gandalf the White. "He is an elf."   
Harry was speechless. He sat there for a moment is utter awe at being able to say he had met an elf. Suddenly he looked up, remembering Gandalf's words.   
"So...so three rings were given to elves?" he asked uncertainly.   
"Correct, Harry," replied Gandalf the White. "The elves are the wisest and fairest of all beings."   
"Were...were any other rings...given out...?" asked Harry, unsure of whether he was wording his questions very well.

"Yes, Harry," Gandalf the White replied. "More rings were indeed made. Seven were given to the dwarves."   
"Dwarves?" repeated Harry. "_Dwarves_?"   
Gandalf the White smiled and nodded.   
"And nine rings were gifted to the race of men."   
"So there are still normal people running around?" muttered Harry.   
"Harry, please accept that we are in the world of Middle Earth, and what you consider normal may have no meaning or relevance here," Gandalf the White replied wisely. "You have met a wizard, myself, an elf, many humans, and a dwarf, but-"   
"A dwarf?" Harry repeated once more. "I haven't-"   
But as he broke off, he remembered that short, stout "man" with his long ginger hair and beard, his deep rumbling voice and his enormous silver axe. He fell silent and nodded.

Gandalf the White smiled at Harry's acceptance. He continued.   
"In each of these rings, there was the power and will to govern each race. But all of them were deceived."   
"How?" asked Harry.   
"Another ring was made, Harry. The Dark Lord Sauron forged this ring in the fires of Mount Doom and into it he poured his very essence, his true being. They are one, the ring and the Dark Lord..."   
Both of them paused as Harry imagined the power that this one ring seemed to have. It was the heart of the battles.   
"Where is this ring?" he said. "Please tell me it is in our possession."   
"Yes, and no, Harry," replied Gandalf the White. "It is certainly on our side, as you may put it, but the bearer of the ring is a hobbit, Frodo Baggins."   
"A what?" said Harry. "More new races?"   
Gandalf nodded and smiled.   
"A hobbit. Hobbits are very small, Harry - about three foot six in height. They are wonderful, fun loving beings whom I have spent many years with. It injures me deeply to see dear Frodo, carrying this ring..."   
He broke off. Harry seized his moment to ask yet another question.   
"Where is he taking the ring? What are you going to do with it?"

Gandalf the White paused. He took a deep breath, gathering himself, and when he next spoke it was for a long while, without pause. Harry did not interrupt. Gandalf told him everything of Middle Earth, the history of the ring, how Isildur had his one chance to destroy it but did not, and how Aragorn was his heir. He told him of the many lands in Middle Earth, showing him a map of the borders and boundaries. He told him of their journey from Rivendell with eight others, tracing their path with his finger. Harry listened and watched in awe as Gandalf told his everything; everything he had been desperate to know. Harry did not speak. He simply sat and took in everything Gandalf told him, took in the knowledge; treasured it. From there, Harry found an understanding in the surrounding world and the people in it. He knew he would remember these details forever.

At last Gandalf the White finished telling Harry of what throwing the ring into the fires of Mount Doom would mean. For a moment neither of them dared to speak, but treasured the silence and understanding between them. At last, Gandalf leaned forward and smiled at Harry.   
"So, Harry," he said. "Is there anything else you would like to ask?"   
Harry nodded.   
"Yes," he said. "I would like to know more about the ring bearer...Frodo. Why did he split from the rest at Amon Hen?"   
"Ah, Harry," began Gandalf the White. "Aragorn has told me all of it. Boromir attempted to take the ring from Frodo-"   
"Why, Gandalf?" interrupted Harry.   
"It has a power, Harry. It took hold of Boromir...I do not think you can fully understand the corruptive power it possesses. But Frodo saw it. He knew that it was not safe to remain in the company of others when the powers of the ring were so strong. Aragorn understood this. Then, when the Urak-hi attacked, he allowed Frodo to leave Amon Hen, while he, Aragorn fought them back and kept them at bay."   
"But he ended up leaving with Sam - Samwise?"   
"It is my belief that Samwise ran after Frodo and told him he could not leave without him. I told Samwise not to leave Frodo. I believe he was fulfilling his promise to me not to."

Harry nodded.   
"That was good of him."   
"Indeed, Harry," replied Gandalf, nodding. "Indeed. Samwise cares a great deal for Frodo. I fear for them both."   
Harry nodded again. He wondered what it would be like to be either one of them, wandering alone in the wilderness, wearing such a dangerous possession on a chain, completely cut off from everyone.   
Harry suddenly looked at Gandalf the White as another thought occurred to him.   
"Gandalf...?" he said slowly. "Has there been any contact at all between the two hobbits and us? You, or...or Aragorn, maybe?"   
"No, Harry," replied Gandalf the White.   
"But then...Frodo doesn't know that Boromir was killed?"   
"Unless he was told by another, and I can't imagine who...no, he does not know."   
"But then he doesn't know that you are...still alive? He only knew Gandalf the Grey, falling into eternity in Moria."   
Gandalf the White paused, looking down at his hands. He could not meet Harry's eye, and Harry saw a single tear running down Gandalf's cheek.   
"No, Harry. He does not know."


	10. Chapter10

**Chapter 10**

Harry could not bear to look at Gandalf. His face was so full of emotion, so taken over by his heart that it seemed an awful thing to do anything that might have invaded that circle of grief. Although they sat together, suddenly, they were worlds apart once more, Gandalf on a whole new level of understanding. Harry suddenly felt he had to say something.   
"I-I am sorry, Gandalf," he began uncertainly. "I didn't mean-"   
"There is no call for an apology, Harry," replied Gandalf the White, his voice slightly shaky. "But I so fear for Frodo...and what will become of him..."

Harry looked carefully at Gandalf.   
"Why? What do you mean, what will become of him?"   
Gandalf said nothing.   
"What do you mean? He's going to destroy the evil of all the worlds, Gandalf! What could possibly-"   
"Do not trouble your mind with it, Harry," replied Gandalf the White. "Nothing is certain. Nothing."   
Harry did not know if what he was hearing was the truth. He could not tell. Yet he needed to know. Something inside him told him that he should know...before it was too late again.

Harry opened his mouth to speak, but stopped himself when he saw Gandalf suddenly stand up. He walked over to the door.   
"Ah," he said. "It appears that the others have gone. Go back to your room, Harry - I will speak more with you later."   
"But-" Harry began.   
"Please, Harry, I think it will be best for you to leave."   
Gandalf would not meet Harry's eyes. Harry closed his mouth, got up, and strode out of the room without looking at him.

Harry came to the small space outside the room to find it empty. The others had left; Harry did not know where they had gone.   
Harry was disappointed; he had been fascinated by Gandalf's explanations of each of the people, particularly Aragorn. It would have helped him for them to speak again, once they knew the truth about each other. Harry sighed. Nothing seemed to be working.   
Harry turned back to the room behind him. Gandalf had closed the door. He started to go back to the door, meaning to tell him that he had no idea how to get back to his room, but something inside him made him stop. He paused for a moment, and realised that once again he was angry with Gandalf. Again, he was to be shut out, excluded. Harry rubbed his forehead, his scar. After all he had faced, all he had proved, all he had lost, this was still happening to him.

Harry began to make his way down the steps. He knew he'd never be able to get back to his room.   
_Oh well_, he thought bitterly. _To hell with it. I don't care what they think. I don't care where I'm going. I just want to be as far away from him as I can be._   
He carried on making his way down the steps. He felt better with each one; each put that little bit of extra distance between himself and Gandalf.   
He came to the last stretch of steps and his heart leapt as he saw Eowyn standing at the bottom of them. She was not looking at him; she was lost in thought and had not noticed him. Harry felt suddenly worried. What would she think of him, now that she knew he was here to fight the allegiance of Voldemort and Sauron? He stopped suddenly. Maybe he should go back, turn away, so he wouldn't have to face her...

He began to back away slowly, all the while facing her to check she had not noticed him. It seemed that he was just about to creep out of sight, but suddenly-   
"Harry!" Eowyn exclaimed, turning to face him. Her eyes lit up and her beautiful mouth smiled in joy at the sight of him, and she held her clothes up as she ran up the stairs to greet him. As her arms outstretched and she hugged him hard, Harry felt any fear or doubt that he might have had leave him. Eowyn had swore to remain his friend, and this he trusted her to do so.   
Harry put his arms around her and hugged her back as tightly as he could, never wanting to let her go.

At last they parted. Eowyn drew away, her hands still on his shoulders.   
"Oh, Harry," she said. "Thank goodness I can talk to you again."   
"H-have you been waiting long?" he asked.   
"Not too long," she replied with a smile. "Though in truth you were quite a while. I suppose there was a lot to explain?"   
"There was," Harry nodded. "Gandalf told me loads."   
"Though he no longer is just Gandalf any more, is he?" sighed Eowyn. "Albus Dumbledore and Gandalf the Grey form Gandalf the White. It's...incredible."   
"I found it difficult to understand," replied Harry, nodding. "How...how did everyone take it?"   
"They accepted what Aragorn said, and for that I believe that he felt proud," she smiled.   
Harry noticed the wide-eyed look that Eowyn took when she spoke of Aragorn.   
"You feel for him, don't you, Eowyn?" he asked her softly.   
She looked down.   
"I care for him greatly, Harry," she replied slowly. "I do love him. Yet...I love him as a brother, for I have come to know him as one through this war. He is one of the few men that I truly look up to. They are hard to find."

Harry put his arm around Eowyn.   
"He is an incredible man, Eowyn. Gandalf told me all about him."   
Eowyn looked carefully at him.   
"You know...who he is?"   
Harry nodded.   
"The heir of Isildur...son of the King thousands of years ago."   
Eowyn nodded.   
"We would be lost without him. Without him, we would not stand a chance in this war. In fact, I believe we would already be dead," she said, with a sad smile. "For he fought so bravely and brilliantly in the battle for Helm's Deep..."   
She broke off, and stared into space.   
"He has a destiny."   
Harry started at these words as he realised their full meaning. A destiny. A purpose, a resolve, a focus, a reason for being here, a definite happening surrounding the being. Was he...?   
"Eowyn?" he said suddenly.   
She turned to him.   
"Yes, Harry...what is it?"   
Well...you know why, now, don't you? We both do. We know why I am here."   
She paused before answering.   
"Yes. I know."   
Harry took a deep breath and asked one of the most incredible, frightening questions he had ever asked in his life.   
"Does that mean...do you think that _I_ have a...reason...too? Am I _meant_ to do this...was I always _meant_ to be here? Is this...is this my destiny?"


	11. Chapter11

**Chapter 11**

Eowyn stopped, and turned towards Harry. She looked deep into his eyes. He met her gaze, unfaltering, unblinking. He needed to know the truth.   
Yet what was the truth? Harry thought seriously in his heart. Could it just be defined as that which is not a lie? That which can be proved, like reality.   
_No_, he thought suddenly. _Truth is much more than that_...   
Suddenly, Eowyn smiled.   
"Yes," she said softly.

Harry stared at her. She smiled.   
"I believe it to be true," she said softly. "I believe it with all my heart, Harry. This is your destiny."   
Harry could hardly take in that his heart was also telling him so. He nodded slowly.   
"I - I think it is in my heart too, Eowyn," he said, his voice trembling slightly.   
Eowyn put her arm around him, and Harry leant against her. He needed a friend, someone to look after him, and he was so glad that she was there.   
"Aragorn told us a lot about you," she said suddenly.   
Harry straightened up and looked at her.   
"Really? What...what kind of things did he say?"   
Eowyn smiled mysteriously at him.   
"Intriguing things."   
"Eowyn!" Harry laughed. "Really...I'm interested. What did he say?"

Eowyn smiled at him.   
"Your magic is so different to this world, Harry. It was very strange to hear about it."   
Harry pulled out the wand he'd stored in his jeans pocket. Eowyn stared at it.   
"That is it? Your wand?"   
"Yes," he nodded. "What is so strange about it?"   
"Well, there is a lot of Magic in the land of Middle Earth," Eowyn began. "Far more than in your world, from what Aragorn told us. Very few in your world are magical; am I right?"   
Harry nodded.   
"Yes; there are magical people like me, and then there are non-magical people. We call them Muggles."   
Eowyn nodded.   
"Here, nearly everyone has magic of their own. But we do not use objects such as yours." She glanced at his wand. "The closest thing to that would be Gandalf's staff, and even they are not very similar. You use certain words to show your magic...with us what we will is more important rather than pronounced words."

"Well...we have to concentrate hard on what we want with more difficult spells," said Harry. "But simple spells, that I learnt years ago, I have no difficulty with them."   
"And each of your spells does a _certain_ thing, doesn't it?" said Eowyn. "We don't have particular spells for a particular task...not like your kind seem to have."   
Harry nodded, understanding the differences in their magic.   
"Would you like to see a spell?" he asked her.   
"Oh...yes," she replied, looking slightly confused.   
"Is everything all right?" he asked.   
"Yes...it's just that it seems too strange, you just being able to produce magic on command."   
"I do see what you mean," Harry replied.   
But in truth he found their way of magic quite strange. What was the point of not being able to do a particular task at a certain time? Why so much focus on what you willed? It didn't make sense to Harry. For him, magic was elementary, to be taught, in straight lines, black and white.   
He saw no other way.

Harry shrugged away his thoughts and looked at Eowyn.   
"Can I have something of yours, Eowyn?" he asked her. "Something...small?"   
She nodded, and removed the necklace she wore. Harry had not noticed it before, but looked at it now in wonder. It was delicate and beautiful, strangely similar to Eowyn herself. It had a strangely Celtic look to it, swirling yet defined. Harry smiled, not even sure why.   
"Harry?" said Eowyn, looking at him.   
The spell was broken. Harry looked up at Eowyn and smiled.   
"The spell I have chosen," he began, "Is one to levitate objects."   
Eowyn smiled curiously.   
Harry cleared his throat, and raised his wand. With a swish and a flick, he said: "Wingardium Leviosa!"


	12. Chapter12

**Chapter 12**

Harry stared at the necklace, expecting it to rise into the air as it normally did.   
Nothing happened.   
Eowyn looked at him.   
"Harry? What's wrong? Why isn't it...?"   
Harry looked down at the necklace helplessly. He didn't understand.

The silence hung between them for a moment longer, before Eowyn spoke again.   
"Harry?"   
Harry would not look at her. For some strange reason, he felt ashamed.   
Suddenly, he heard Eowyn rise next to him as three men rounded the corner and began walking towards. At least, Harry had at first thought them to be men, but now knew that only one of them was. The second was an elf, and the third was a dwarf.   
Aragorn, Legolas, and Gimli were walking towards them.

Eowyn smiled at them as they drew near and halted before them.   
"So, as you can see," she said. "He has returned."   
Aragorn nodded.   
"Hello again, Harry Potter. I now feel I can introduce myself properly to you."   
Harry grabbed Eowyn's necklace from the floor and handed it to her. He looked at the four friends before him, and had never felt so much an outsider.   
Aragorn reached out, and placed a hand on Harry's shoulder. He stared into Harry's eyes, and this time, neither of them looked away.   
"Welcome," whispered Aragorn.   
He released Harry and stepped back.   
Harry exchanged a nervous look with Eowyn, but she smiled reassuringly at him, and beckoned him forward to the others.   
Legolas stepped forward.   
"I understand that Gandalf has now told you everything," he said in his clear, calm voice. "Welcome. I am Legolas, a Mirkwood elf."   
"Hello," said Harry, suddenly managing to find his voice in the face of this friendly stranger. "I suppose you know enough about me, too. I'm Harry...Harry Potter."   
Legolas nodded at stepped back, as the dwarf moved forward.   
"I am not one for standing on ceremony," he grumbled. "Hello. I am Gimli the dwarf. I know you are Harry."   
He stepped back abruptly. Harry did not know what to say or think, but suddenly noticed that Eowyn seemed to be holding back a laugh, Legolas was smiling, and even Aragorn appeared to be grinning behind his hand.   
Harry could not help it. He smiled with the others.

Aragorn took his hand away from his mouth and addressed Eowyn and Harry.   
"I have sent for some food...would you care to join us?"   
Eowyn looked at Harry.   
"I would be happy to," she said. "Harry?"   
She pulled him back for a moment.   
"Do you want some time alone?"   
"I - no," replied Harry, surprised to find that his reply was honest. "But where would we eat?"   
"Well...normally meals would be held in the main part of the fort, I suppose..." replied Eowyn slowly. "But if you would prefer..."   
Harry nodded.   
"I - I'm sorry, Eowyn, but I just can't face too much company at the moment...not until I know more about what I mean here. I am sorry...but can we eat in that room...?"   
"The room where we slept this evening?" enquired Eowyn.   
"Yes," answered Harry. "But it would be good if all five of us could be there...if that is not too much to ask."   
Eowyn smiled.   
"Of course not."   
She stepped away with him, and spoke briefly with Aragorn. Then she turned back to Harry.   
"Come," she said. "We can return to the room. Aragorn will be there shortly."

Harry nodded, and in his mind thanked Eowyn with all his heart. He could not express his gratitude with words.   
Eowyn walked back with Harry, as Legolas and Gimli remained briefly to speak with Aragorn. She looked at him curiously as they walked.   
"What?" asked Harry, noticing it.   
"Nothing," replied Eowyn half-heartedly. "It's just that..."   
"What?" Harry repeated.   
"That magic...that you just tried to do. It didn't work."   
"No," said Harry abruptly. He found that he did not want to talk about it.   
"Why did it not work?"   
"How should I know?" Harry replied angrily, raising his voice. His temper rose suddenly and unexpectedly as he glared at Eowyn, who stepped back, startled and afraid. He didn't know what was happening, but his anger bubbled ferociously and he wanted to shout with all his might.   
Suddenly Harry yelled as his scar seared with pain. He clapped his hand to his forehead and fell to the floor, feeling his anger melt away to be replaced with horror and panic.

"Harry! Harry!" he heard Eowyn calling, seemingly from so far away. He tried to turn his head towards her, to answer her, but he seemed to be drifting away, flying through space and time...   
A scene hardened in front of him. Harry reeled in terror, trying to back away, but no movement was possible. Before him, he saw a huge volcano, bubbling, burning, surrounded by huge, flying monsters that reminded Harry of pictures he had seen of dinosaurs in his youth in the Muggle World. And then...nothing could have prepared Harry for this...he saw it. Positioned on what was obviously a huge, tall tower, was a huge, flaming, lidless eye, just the one...watching him...forever watching him...and laughing through its bodiless form...

Harry heard shouting...petrified yells, he tried to move away from the staring orange eye, reach out his hands, help whoever it was... 


	13. Chapter13

**Chapter 13**  
"Harry!"   
He opened his eyes. Eowyn was bent over him, her own beautiful eyes widened in shock and concern as she looked at him.   
"What has come over him?" he heard another voice say. He tried to raise his head, and saw that Legolas and Gimli had joined them. Aragorn was nowhere in sight.   
"I - I..." Harry tried to get used to using his voice.   
"Harry?" whispered Eowyn. "What happened?"   
Suddenly, she looked up at the others.   
"We must get him to the room. He needs to lie down, and..." her voice tailed off as Legolas and Gimli nodded.   
Harry felt himself being hoisted aloft, and found he could keep consciousness no longer. His head rolled back, his eyes closed, and the darkness rushed in to claim him.

Harry opened his eyes as he heard quiet voices around him. His vision was blurred; he did not have his glasses on.   
He blinked twice, before he heard someone say his name.   
"Harry!"   
It was Eowyn, instantly at his side.   
"How are you feeling?"   
Harry nodded, trying to smile, but felt his forehead throb and fell back on the bed he was lying on.   
"Where...my glasses?" he asked, clumsily stringing the words together.   
"Here," Eowyn reached over and Harry saw they lay with his wand on a little table next to his bed. "They came off when you fell," she said, handing them to him. "Your wand fell out of your robes, too."   
Harry nodded. He put his glasses on and saw Legolas, Gimli and Aragorn a little way off, watching him. He felt a little uncomfortable lying there, and was glad of Eowyn's presence.   
"I - I heard shouting," he mumbled, remembering. "Someone was hurt...or in trouble..."   
"Rest, Harry," smiled Eowyn. "You heard only yourself."   
Harry lay back, troubled. He had sounded so small, he remembered. So afraid...

He looked away from Eowyn to the table on which his wand lay. He remembered the magic that he had attempted, and how it had not worked. His sudden anger with Eowyn as she questioned him as to why not...the sudden, terrible pain in his scar...   
"Do you want something to eat?" asked Eowyn.   
Harry nodded, sitting up once more. Eowyn looked over to the others and beckoned them forward, which they did so, carrying trays of food and dragging stools. Harry could not help but noticed that Gimli had rather more food than anyone else.   
"Here," said Harry, clambering out of bed. "I'm not ill; I feel fine. Don't crowd around the bed just for me...we've got a table."   
"Harry-" Eowyn began, but Harry shook his head.   
"I feel OK, Eowyn. Please, I don't need to stay in bed."   
Eowyn fell silent and nodded. The group of five gathered around the small table, with Gimli elbowing for more space.

Harry helped himself to some of the food, taking a large portion of the bread and meat before him. The food was strangely old fashioned in his eyes, but tasted far better than anything the Dursleys had ever prepared. It was not the overdone style of Hogwarts feasts, either...it was simple, necessary food. Harry smiled as he ate, finding himself happier with every bite. He looked around the table at everyone with increasing fondness, and found that he no longer felt awkward, but happy...and somehow, more willing to talk with the others as a normal person.

It was Aragorn who at last broke the silence.   
"Harry," he began, "Forgive me for questioning you, but I must ask you what happened."   
"It - it's OK," Harry said, managing a smile. "Eowyn asked to see me do magic-"   
"See you do magic?" Legolas asked curiously. "You can just perform a simple act immediately?"   
"Pretty much," Harry nodded.   
When Legolas still looked confused, Eowyn spoke up.   
"From our discussions, I have gathered that their branch of magic is rather different to ours," she said. "They have certain, definite words to perform small, specific tasks."   
"They do not have to concentrate on what they will? How can this be?"   
"I would imagine it has been very much simplified," Eowyn replied. "So few are magical in their world. The non-magical do not even know of the magical, they remain separate and hidden."   
"Do they not fully understand the importance of their magic, Eowyn?" Legolas asked.   
"I do not honestly think so," said Eowyn.   
Harry did not understand what they were talking about. Magic was specific and organized; it always had been.   
"Anyway," he started again. "I decided to show her a spell to make things float. But...Eowyn took off her necklace, and I tried, but it didn't work."   
"The spell failed?" Aragorn asked.   
"Yes. And then-"   
He half-glanced at Eowyn, remembering the way he had shouted at her. Guilt tumbled over him as he looked at her, beautiful, perfect...so trusting. He had done her wrong.

"Then?" Aragorn prompted.   
Eowyn saw Harry's glance.   
"Please, Harry, do not feel ashamed," she said with a smile. "You did me no wrong. Tell Aragorn what passed."   
Harry could not tell the overwhelming sense of gratitude that rushed over him. He realised with shock that he could feel a lump in his throat at Eowyn's wonderful attitude. He swallowed.   
"Eowyn asked me why...why the magic had not worked," he began, trying to keep his voice steady. "And I-"   
Eowyn took his hand. It helped to clear things.   
"I felt so angry," Harry said in a strangely hushed voice. "I don't know what came over me. I shouted at you," he said suddenly, looking at her. "I'm really sorry."   
"Harry, I have already said...you did me no wrong."   
She put her other hand on his shoulder.   
"This moment you described," Aragorn said suddenly. "The anger that came over you. What did it feel like?"   
"Overpowering," Harry replied honestly. "It was uncontrollable, horrible; I needed to shout, to release it."   
Aragorn nodded slowly. He did not speak for a moment, resting his hands on the table. Eowyn squeezed Harry's hand as they waited for him to speak. Legolas looked intently from Harry to Aragorn, and Harry had the impression that Legolas understood with perfect clarity the situation. Gimli, however, continued to eat the food in front of him...he seemed particularly keen on the salted pork, which Harry detested. At last, Aragorn looked up, and straight into Harry's eyes. He spoke without hesitation.   
"Tell me what you saw."

Harry looked down at his lap. He closed his eyes, recalling that terrifying scene that had blazed before him.   
"There was..." he began, remembering. "A volcano. A - a huge one. It was active, bubbling..."   
Harry saw, out of the corner of his eye, Aragorn exchange a glance with Legolas. He carried on, sure an explanation would come.   
"There were...creatures," he continued. "Huge, dark, flying monsters...and an eye..."   
He shuddered as he thought of it. He saw Aragorn and Legolas exchange another look.   
"An eye?"

Harry looked down at his lap and nodded.   
"Yes. An eye."   
He shuddered as he remembered it.   
"Can you...describe it?"   
It was Legolas this time that spoke. Harry remained looking down, but saw out of the corner of his eye Legolas and Aragorn exchange the most fleeting of looks. It angered him.   
"I don't think I should," he said suddenly. "I think you should start telling me what you know, as you both clearly do."   
Aragorn took a steady breath in, and Eowyn tightened her grip on Harry's shoulder. He smiled at her, but noticed she looked concerned.   
"What is it?" he asked her.   
"What you saw..." she said uncertainly. "I could not know for certain, but..."   
"What? What did I see?"

Eowyn opened her mouth to answer, but as she did so, Aragorn spoke.   
"Harry. I - I do have my suspicions-"   
"Suspicions?" said Harry, angrily cutting Aragorn off. "Tell me what they are."   
Aragorn looked at Harry across the table, and Harry felt a mixture of shame and anger. Yes, he wanted to be told what was going on, but suddenly he understood he was being unreasonable.   
"I'm sorry," he mumbled.   
"Please, Harry, don't be," said Legolas, his deep, caring eyes staring into Harry's. Harry found that he couldn't help but like Legolas, and listened to what he said.   
Aragorn spoke again.   
"The eye that you saw, Harry..."   
"It was aflame," he replied, remembering it with a shiver. "I was huge, orange, burning..."   
He looked down once more, remembering the terror he had felt, how he had shouted, tried to get away...

Eowyn lowered her head, and Aragorn took a deep breath. Legolas' stare became more pronounced, and even Gimli stopped eating to look at Harry. Their expressions mirrored each other.   
Harry was horrified.   
"I saw...him?"   
Aragorn would not look at him. He nodded.   
"You saw him and his fortress, situated at Mount Doom."   
"But...how? Why?"   
Harry was trembling all over. He knew this meant something huge, and he dreaded to know what.   
Aragorn spoke quietly.   
"Gandalf the White warned me of this...the part of him that is Albus Dumbledore knew. In your world, you could look into Voldemort's mind through that scar on your forehead...the tables have been turned, Harry. Voldemort can look into your mind through the scar, and now that he and Sauron are one..."

Harry understood. They could both look into his mind.   
He took a deep shuddering breath, shaking all over. Eowyn put her arm around him and he fell against her, trembling. The horror of it was too much to feel. He closed his eyes...he did not want to look at them, their sympathy, their worry. He wanted to lie there forever, against Eowyn, blocking them out, blocking out the entire world, _all_ the worlds that could ever exist. The heat of it built up inside him more than he could bear...he was burning inside...   
Suddenly, a finger ran across his forehead, tracing the scar, cooling the sudden, painful heat. He opened his eyes. Eowyn looked into his, as she placed the back of her hand over his forehead.   
"There is a third eye there," she murmured softly to him. "And it will be used, Harry, in every way."   
Harry did not understand, but her compassion held him together, as he forced himself to look at her.   
And she smiled. It was the smile that broke Harry's heart, that last ray of hope in a world of dark. Harry felt his eyes fill with tears.   
"We will get through this, Harry," Eowyn whispered. "You and I will get through this together. I swear it."   
The tears ran freely as Eowyn held Harry against her, letting him weep all the fear and pain that had burnt inside him, letting it seep away with his tears. Eowyn placed a hand on the back of Harry's head as she held him, supporting him, and knowing him. Harry wept that day for all the people that he had ever known, for all those that had suffered at the hands of such evil, for those he had never met, those he would never know. They had seen each other's deepest grief and fear, and between Harry and Eowyn a deeper understanding was woven, a love, a friendship, a unity...that was born to last forever.


	14. Chapter14

**Chapter 14**

At last Harry's tears subsided. He looked into Eowyn's beautiful face, and was so deeply comforted by the compassionate smile on her face that fresh tears threatened to break again.   
Eowyn touched Harry's cheek with a gentle finger, wiping away the tears.   
"Strength, Harry," she whispered softly. "Have strength in these dark times."   
He nodded, straightening up, to find the others watching him. Strangely, he felt no embarrassment.   
Aragorn spoke suddenly, breaking the moment of silence.   
"I am sorry to place this burden upon you, Harry," he said. "I am glad that you shed your tears now, for there is darkness ahead."   
Harry stared at Aragorn across the table.   
"What is required of me?" 

Aragorn looked around.   
"The company must split," he said. "I am not sure this is for everyone to hear."   
"No," Harry said suddenly. "Please. I want us all to..."   
He broke off, his eyes staring into Aragorn's.   
"Are you sure?" asked Aragorn.   
"Yes..." Harry said. "Last summer, I was in a house with my friends and people working to stop Voldemort. But they would not let us know what was going on the entire time...we were shut away, kept out of all that was going on. It was such a wrong decision."   
Aragorn nodded slowly.   
"Very well."

Aragorn paused, glancing around the company, before speaking again.   
"You know of the prophecy that you have heard, made by one from your world?"   
Harry nodded.   
"Prophecy?" said Gimli uncertainly. "Sounds untrustworthy to me."   
"Not at all, Gimli," said Legolas with a smile. "For Lord Elrond of Rivendell too has the gift of foresight. He has prophesised many things, although most he keeps secret."   
Aragorn nodded.   
"Seers have this gift in Harry's world. A certain seer made a prophecy about the Dark Lord...and Harry."   
Harry nodded.   
"What about Harry?" asked Eowyn worriedly, glancing at him.   
"They are bound together," murmured Aragorn softly.   
Eowyn gasped, looking at Harry.   
"What?"   
Harry nodded once more.   
"We will meet again, Eowyn - for a final time. The prophecy says that one of us must kill the other."

Harry looked at his lap. He did not want to see the reaction on their faces. He found himself wandering back to one of his moments alone by the lake...remembering what it had felt like for him to first discover that his life must include, or end in, murder.   
He certainly did not want his life to end, not now, or in the near future. But the prospect of killing someone, even Voldemort, chilled him to the bone. Fellow classmates had done well to avoid him in the corridors, it would seem...if that was where his life was to be headed...

Harry looked up suddenly, voicing his thoughts.   
"I don't want to die," he said quietly. "But the idea of killing seems awful..."

The company looked at Harry, from all across the table. They seemed to be at a loss at what to say. Eowyn had her head bent, silent. Legolas was looking away from all of them. Gimli had his eyes on the tray where the last remainders of their lunch lay, and Aragorn had covered his face with his hands.

Harry did not know what to do; what to say. He could not see any way to make it right. The situation before them was terrible.   
Suddenly Aragorn looked up. Harry stared at him in amazement. For there was no bit of sorrow or pain in Aragorn's face, but the most gleeful grin that Harry had ever seen. Harry was completely bemused at the expression, but it was infectious. He smiled back at Aragorn.   
"Harry," said Aragorn, still with that wonderful, spreading smile. "One day this evil will fall down at our feet. And I will tell you now, we will not let you stand alone. We will be with you to the end, Harry, in darkness, in doubt, in fear, and in pain. And yet through the dark we will see the end, the light. The end will come, Harry, but it will not be our end."   
And with that he stood up suddenly, knocking his chair aside and laying his hand on the table. He looked around at the company.   
"Be with me on this. Let us stand together, fight together, for us, for freedom, against the greatest evil all races have ever known!"

Harry glanced at Eowyn, who had risen up. Throwing her hair back, with a proud and glowing smile, she placed her hand on top of Aragorn's.   
"Forever."   
Gimli leapt up from his chair.   
"Almost certain death?" he asked Aragorn.   
"I'm afraid so, Gimli," said Aragorn with a grin.   
"Small chance of success?"   
"Absolutely."   
"Well then," said the dwarf, rising up to his full height. "What are we waiting for?"   
Eowyn laughed out loud as Gimli placed his hand down on top of hers. Legolas smiled and followed suit.   
Harry stared at them, unable to voice what he was feeling. They were so strong, so incredible, he suddenly felt untouchable. He reached down and placed his hand on top of Legolas' with a sudden rush of adrenaline, and for a moment, they all looked at the hands down on the table, their hearts beating fast, staring at the alliance they had created. Harry could not help but smile with such pride at knowing what he had pledged to do.   
"Forever," he whispered.   
"Forever," the murmur came from the others, and suddenly the hands were withdrawn, yet the doubt had not. It glowed among them, strong as ever, as Eowyn had whispered to him only moments ago. Harry could hold back his gratitude no longer, and threw his arms around the beautiful young woman. She hugged him back just as hard, and Harry felt the others join him. He drew back to look at them.   
"Thank you," he said softly. ****

Aragorn inclined his head.   
"And now, Harry, I feel inclined to ask you what you would like to do. At the moment we are waiting to move...we do have time on our hands. Is there anything you would like?"   
Harry thought for a moment.   
"Yes," he said finally. "I would like to practise magic."

Aragorn took a deep breath. Eowyn looked round at Harry, her smile fading slightly.   
"Are you sure, Harry? Last time..."   
Her voice tailed off as Harry stared back at her defiantly, meeting her eyes with a strange boldness.   
"Yes," he said.   
He did not see Aragorn, Gimli Legolas and Eowyn exchange solemn glances as he turned to reach for his wand. He did not know what lay in store for him, the news that would be brought to his attention.   
He had to understand, before he could apply.

Harry reached for him wand on the bedside table in the room, and accidentally knocked his bag of possessions onto the floor. In one fluid movement, his silver invisibility cloak lay on the ground.   
"What is that?" Legolas asked curiously.   
"My invisibility cloak," Harry replied slowly. Something was wrong. He lifted it up and wrapped it around him. Nothing happened. It remained visible, as did the rest of him.   
"A magical cloak?" Legolas said wonderingly. "To make you unseen to the normal eye?"   
Harry nodded, not daring to look up.   
"How do you activate it?" Gimli rumbled.   
Harry remained silent.   
"Harry?" said Eowyn, sensing something was wrong.   
"That's just it," Harry mumbled. "You shouldn't be able to see me...it isn't working..."   
His voice broke off. He didn't understand it. Somehow, he was stripped of his powers...what could he do? How was he to survive?

"Harry!" Aragorn called suddenly. Harry started, dropping his cloak. Aragorn walked quickly towards him, strange, curious worry in his eyes. He took hold of his arm.   
"Come," he said, pulling Harry along. "That is it. We are going to see Gandalf."   
And with that he strode to the other side of the room, Harry attempting to free his arm from Aragorn's grip. Aragorn opened the door, and walked out into the hall outside, leaving the others.   
"Get off me!" Harry spat angrily. "I can walk by myself!"   
Aragorn looked at him suddenly, humbled.   
"Forgive me," he said quietly, releasing his arm.   
"I will not!" replied Harry angrily. "What are you doing? Where are we going?"   
"I have already said. To see Gandalf."   
"But _why_?"   
Aragorn turned once more to look at Harry, yet he would not meet his eyes.   
"I cannot tell you."

"For God's sake!" Harry yelled suddenly, stopping in his tracks. "You don't care, do you? You're all the same, every single damn one of you! You don't care about how the hell I feel, dragged around, told to shut up and listen and that everything will work out. It never does! Aragorn, PLEASE! Tell me!"

As Aragorn looked away, his face screwed up in confusion and emotion, it happened.


End file.
